13th Year Update...

August Eleventh and all is well. Only 20 more luck-filled days and this year's curse - will be broken. Wishful thinking? Wish not. Want not.

The Thirteenth Year...

This is my 13th year of marriage and I have confession to make -- I am a little superstitious. Not the whole - avoid black cats and walking under ladders things - although I must admit I. do. not. like. cats. period. And I can't think of a time where I've actually walked under a ladder - so maybe I'm a little more superstitious than I thought. But, truthfully, I really am only superstitious about a few things - May 17, a purple flowered shirt, - and my 13th year of marriage.

As our 13th anniversary in March approached - I joked with my husband - that if we could survive this 13th year of marriage we could make it through eternity just fine. Two days later, we were doing a service project and cleaning our church. Aussie (8), got his finger slammed in a big heavy wood door and had to be taken to the emergency room - where we spent 6 hours. He had a broken finger and had to have his nail removed so they could do stitches. Very painful. Very ugly. Very 13th year.

One week later, DH was backing out of the garage and knocked his passenger side mirror off (luckily the glass didn't break - or this one year of bad luck could've added on another 7). I took one look at the mirror he held in his hand and said, "13th year". (He does not agree nor support my superstition - as a matter of fact he thinks you should never blame stupidity on luck - I say look at all my supporting evidence and then decide).

The month of April Aussie had a rash for the entire month - he missed tons of school. I thought it was 5th's disease - but the pediatrician didn't think so. So he was treated with steroids, antibiotics and expensive prescription allergy medicine = nothing got rid of it. After 3 weeks of numerous trips to the pediatrician and pharmacy (and lots of co-pays), I finally took Aussie to the dermatologist. He took one look at the rash and said - that's 5th disease - not contagious at this stage, not treatable - and he can go to school just fine. I thought two things - #1 webmd.com is a heckuva lot cheaper than copays and needless prescriptions and #2 "13th year."

In May, I was asked to help out with a craft night for my church. I was in charge of cutting out 2x4 blocks which could say either Family or Summer. I had to cut and sand 120 blocks. On block #119 my power sander slipped a gear and broke (yes-I had to hand sand that last blasted block). It's not a super-expensive machine - but it's not one that I will replace unless I start crafting on a more regular basis. I'm hoping it can be fixed - but you know all I keep thinking is "13th year."

In June, it really started to get kind of spooky. Of course, if you've read my blog you have heard about "Flood 2007". Naturally, on the night of the flood, only one thought came to my mind and that was "The 13th year". (which by the way - renovation flood update - all we have left to fix the flood is to get the carpets cleaned - we are hoping this happens soon - but the jokers have yet to call us - and we've been awaiting their call for 1 1/2 weeks - just chalk it up to the 13th year).

Fast forward to Thursday, July 26. We had enrichment night that evening, and it was a backyard event at our Bishop's home. That morning, at 9 am we met at the church to load up tables and chairs and haul them to the Bishop's backyard. On my way home from setting up, I drove past the church and tried to accelerate past 30 mph. The van revved like I was in neutral. I drove up another street to see if it was a fluke. Nope - still revved. I had to stop at a stop sign - and when I pushed on the gas to go - you guessed it - it revved again. I had to turn my van off and back on again to get it to click in gear. Automatically "13th year" popped into my head and I assumed the worst - the transmission was going out.

I talked to my bro-in-law, husband and dad - who all agreed it sounded like the transmission was going bad. Guess who else agreed? The Aamco mechanic - to the tune of $2,400. Gulp. Since my van is 9 years old - it was truly bound to happen. But couldn't it have waited until my 14th year or 15th year of marriage. All I can say, is this 13th year is getting might expensive - and we still have 8 months left! (Ironically, guess who is hopping on the 13th year bandwagon - none other than my DH. When I told him of the problems with the van - he said - "Nic you may be right about this 13th year).

Just call me Tevye

So I've blogged about my less than stellar book group. (We are in our 3rd month now - and are reading an LDS book - so at least I'll feel like I'm enriching my life - it's called Peacegiver by the way.) Needless to say, my love for the book group has not been great. But, somehow my oldest daughter, Jay decided she wanted to start one up anyway. Her exact words were - "Mom - I want to start up a book group like yours - only we won't read boring books." Truer words have never been spoken.

Last night was Jay's first book group. She decided on "The Secret Language of Girls". She also planned on having rocky road ice cream as dessert - because the main character in the book loves that kind of ice cream. Since she had never been to a book group she decided she'd better prepare a list of 15 questions to ask (I helped her narrow it down to 10).

At last it was time for Jay's Book Chat. 4 of the 8 girls showed (I guess we should've done reminder calls - but still with Jay that made 5 and it was okay. It was so cute - she started the discussion and asked each of the girls her questions - like "what was your favorite part", "which character do you think you are most like", "if you could rewrite the ending what would you say". She conducted that meeting like she had been doing it all her life. I was amazed at how much older than 12 she seemed. Don't get me wrong - she usually acts her age - but for some reason last night she just seemed old to me.

So, as I listened to my 12 year old act like a 16 year old - I started feel a little Fiddler on the Roofish - I thought "Is this the little girl I carried? Is this the little boy at play. I don't remember getting older - when did they." I was feeling the whole "Sunrise, Sunset" thing all over the place.

I continued to watch her interact with the girls the entire night - and I felt like somehow I had blinked - and she had grown up. I was impressed at how mature she was and that she could handle herself with her friends. I was pleased how she made sure everyone felt included. I was happy that her friends seemed to get such a kick at how wacky and silly she is (because believe me - she is completely uninhibited). But there was still this sense of sadness in me that I couldn't figure out. I guess sadness that we can never go back to her childhood days mixed with a little bit of regret that maybe I wasn't a fun enough/good enough mom.

All in all it seemed like a good time was had by all (even the mom having a pity party inside her head had fun). Jay had a blast, the girls were happy and excited for their next meeting/book (which by the way is "The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle"). And I guess I realized that even though my little girl is growing up and maturing - (and this is about to go from a little cheesy to extra cheese please) - she will always be my daughter no matter her age.

I Come By It Honestly...

If you know me, then you know of my embarrassing story on being "half-asked". But bear with me anyway - because this leads to an equally embarrassing story - involving my mom. My dad always used the term half-a**ed when I was growing up - and for much of my life (we're talking like till I was 29) - I thought the word he was saying was half-asked. Leave it to my naive brain to come up with that. Although technically, they both mean the same thing - so I guess I shouldn't feel too bad about it.

So until I was almost 30 I used the term in many settings - at church meetings, to describe certain people, and sometimes even to my husband. Who, thank goodness, one day called me on it. He mentioned to me he was surprised that while I didn't usually swear - I sure used that particular cuss word on a regular basis.
"Half-asked isn't a swear word," I said.
"Yes it is," he said.
This argument went on for a while until finally DH said, "Nicole, where did you first hear the word?" I told him from my dad. DH just smiled - my dad is known for his swearing. He said, call your dad and ask him.

So, like a dummy I did. I asked him if half-asked was really half-a**ed - and he had the nerve to laugh. "What do you think?" my dad asked. Oh man did I feel like an idiot. Immediately, all of the times I had used that word came flooding back to me. I knew I had used it in church meetings I was presiding over (which was probably why I was only in that calling for 6 months hehe). Luckily, I learned the meaning of the word before I was called as primary president. Can you imagine those poor kids? Mom, Sister H said if we are half-a**ed about things in life, we won't be able to make it back to heaven.

Needless to say, I was embarrassed - and it really took a while for me to not use that term. Imagine my surprise when I caught my mom in one of my word traps. I thought I was the only fool to do such a thing - but it turns out I come by it honestly.

I have a cousin who has a newborn baby in the hospital with heart issues. A couple of days before she had him - she ended up in the hospital with kidney stones. They gave her pain pills and she seemed to be fine. She had the baby and for the last month as sat by his bedside with no troubles from the stones. Until last week. She had another kidney stone attack - and I guess it was bad. She was in a lot of pain - but she has seemed to pass it and is doing better now.

Jen - has a blog where she posts stuff about the baby - and other people post encouraging comments to her and her husband. I frequent this site - and during her time of the kidney stone attack most people focused on prayer and how tough they were and how this was taking them through the refiner's fire etc. There are a lot of people who read the blog - and many who post.

In between my aunt's post of "Prayer Changes Everything" and my other aunt's post "I Believe in Prayer" is my mom's post. In it, she says some nice, inspirational stuff. But the main thing that stuck out to me was this - "Wow! May I say, you do have STONES! You know, the good kind" Her meaning was that Jen was tough, she could handle anything, she was amazing. It was pretty funny - and I figured she had no idea what it really meant.

A few hours later I get a phone call from my DH at work. He was laughing so hard he ccould hardly contain himself. I asked him what is so funny - and he said, "Did you see your mom's post". I told him yes - and he continued to laugh. He could hardly speak. He said, you expect a comment like that from one of your brother's, or Jen's brother - not your mom. He thought it was even more hilarious when I told him I didn't think she knew what it meant.

At first I wasn't going to say anything to her - I knew she'd be mortified. Besides, my cousin has a pretty good sense of humor - and I knew she wouldn't be offended. But, then I remembered my struggles with "half-asked" and decided I'd better pass on the knowledge. My dad answered the phone - and I asked him if he knew what "you've got stones" meant. Of course, he used the more vulgar term to define it - but confirmed that yes he knew what that meant. I told him about mom's post - and he started laughing. He told her what it meant - and she decided that we had our minds in the gutter.

Finally, she realized that we were telling the truth and she indeed was mortified. But, at least now she knows the truth behind the stones - and I know that I come by my naivety of vulgar slang honestly.

Top Ten Things I learned in Flooding My House...

10. 25 minutes of water is A LOT of water (enough to cause damage to 2 bathrooms, a closet, 2 bedrooms and 2 family rooms)
9. Dust bunnies under the bed float (truly embarrassing when you're next door neighbor is helping with the clean-up).
8. You can't hide a flood this size from your husband (& locking the bedroom door with you and your friend inside giggling - only makes him madder - although at the time it felt like a Lucy/Ethel moment).
7. Keep your shop vac clean & free of sawdust for possible wet vac use (because 3 wet queen size quilts and a linen closet full of wet towels puts you behind on wash day for at least a month)
6. Have hangover remedies ready for the Flood Damage guys coming to your house at 130 am on a Friday night (who said drunks weren't efficient).
5. Those dehumidifying blowers are hot! (our house heated up to 85 degrees the weekend of the flood - talk about a punishment straight from the devil).
4. When dry wall guys say it will only take a couple of days to fix your ceiling and walls - they really mean a week (at least I'm hoping it's only a week - the painter should be here today to finish up).
3. Black beauty isn't that comfortable when you have to sleep on it for 2 weeks.
2. Flood repair is the business to be in. People are at your mercy, you make good money & quite honestly, it's fun taking a saw to walls and ceilings - knowing it's not your fault and you don't have to fix it.
1. Flooded bedrom + new carpet and cute painted walls = which room should I flood next summer?

Paint, Kids and a Husband Oh My!

When the Flood of 07' happened - I started dropping hints that we should paint our bedroom. It had been a reoccuring topic in our home since we moved in 2 years ago. I wanted our room painted, but DH thought it would be a huge hassle for a few reasons: too much furniture to contend with, a high ceiling, the wall separating our bedroom from our master bathroom doesn't go all the way up (which means painting the bathroom too), and he didn't like the color I wanted to go with - dirty yellow.

Naturally, I didn't want to be too pushy - since the reason our room was empty was because of me. But, I did try to point out that "gee, since our room is empty, it sure would be easy to paint the room." I also pointed out that since we were getting new carpet we wouldn't even have to put down drop cloths. I may have even insinuated that I'd be willing to make a color change (which I really wasn't planning on doing - I just figured that I'd be by myself picking the paint out and when I came home with dirty yellow - we'd both be surprised hehe)

On the 4th of July, we weren't feeling too festive. My sister who was supposed to be in town had been delayed - so all of our family party plans were cancelled. Plus, it was supposed to be a really hot day - and the parade in Provo is such a rat-race - neither one of us felt like camping out to get a spot. We had tentatively planned on going up to Park City and hanging out up there for the festivities. But, it was also going to be a hot one up there - and we didn't get up and going early enough to make it worth it.

We had to appease the kids, who were feeling sorry for themselves since their parents were the Scrooges of the 4th. So we decided to go to see "Ratatouille". We planned to hit the earliest show possible (1130 am) to beat the crowds - since the movie had only been out a week. But when we got there, half of the state of Utah had the same idea and the soonest we could get in to the movie was for the 3 pm showing.

DH bought the tickets for 3 pm and we headed home. A few miles down the road we passed a Lowe's (which is about 3 miles away from a Home Depot). And DH said, "Do you like buying paint at Lowe's or Home Depot?" I'm a Home Depot girl I said. The next thing I knew he was pulling into Home Depot and said let's get some paint for the bedroom and we'll do it today. "With the kids?" I asked. "Yes" he said. "And with you?" I asked - actually I just thought that in my head. But - boy did I want to run them home quick and then come back ALONE.

All five of us headed into the store to the paint department. I found my favorite dirty yellow colors. DH was looking at some sage green colors. I realized this color decision was going to make or break the plan to paint. DH did have some valid points - one being that as big of a pain as the room was going to be to paint - did we really want to paint it dirty yellow only to get sick of it in a year or two (I think he was already sick of looking at it hehe). He also pointed out how much more neutral a sage green would be. And his final point was if we ever sold the house who in their right mind would want a dirty yellow room. I began to list off at least 4 girls I know who love dirty yellow. He finally suggested that we paint my craft room dirty yellow. I didn't know whether to be insulted or happy that at least one room in my house could be the color of my dreams--but it was the only room in the house that DH doesn't set foot in.

It wasn't that I didn't like the sagey green - and since it's his room too - I began looking in the green color families trying to find the perfect shade of green. I had found about 4 colors I was debating between when DH said - pick one and let's go. Since I had only been thinking about the colors for about 15 minutes, I tried to explain that this was a big decision. I needed to figure out which shade of green would go best with my quilt in my room, match the furniture best, and match the carpet best - which hadn't even been installed so it was really hard to picture it. He asked me if I planned on fasting and praying about it- because he was losing the momentum to paint.

The kids were also losing their momentum - to live. The twins were being maniacs - playing on the paint computer, running down the aisle like heathens and saying mom let's go! J was begging for me to buy a crazy, funky pink color to do in her room. I realized I needed to kick it in gear and make a decision. So, I asked DH for a few more minutes and he took the kids to the paint brush section.

I studied the colors - did I want the sage green, the mintier sage green, the oliveier sage green or the yellowier sage green. It was hard to decide. Finally - I took the 2 colors I liked best to DH and made him decide (of course he didn't pick the one I was leaning towards - but I went with his choice anyway). Then I couldn't watch as they mixed the paint color - I was so worried I wasn't going to like it.

Once we got it up on the walls - it looked great. Of course, I can see all the spots we didn't do perfectly. But I'm hoping once the furniture is moved back in and the pictures and such are hung - I won't notice it anymore.

I know this whole flood has been the hugest pain in the fanny for many people involved - my DH, my kids, ME, my sister and her fam, my bookgroup(they need a hostess for next month) -- and anyone else who I have had to put off until the flood repair is finished. But I have to say, despite the pain - my bedroom is looking better than ever, my new carpet is gorgeous and soft, DH has the painting bug and wants to paint other rooms in the house, my craft room is going to get the dirty yellow color it deserves -- and it never would've happened if I hadn't left the bathtub running unattended for 25 minutes while I visited with my girlfriend on the porch (will I ever look back on that statement and laugh?).
PS The picture makes it look a little lighter than it is. And notice my little reading corner in the picture above? I am so excited for that.

When will it ever end?

I flooded my house almost 3 weeks ago and I am beginning to think the remodeling will never end! I can't complain to my DH because he only reminds me why we are remodeling in the first place - which is totally because of me (curses).

But honestly - I thought we'd be all cleaned up and ready to go by week 3. I even told my sister as much - she is supposed to be staying with us and I figured by week 3 we'd be done. I guess I didn't account for the week of the 4th having absolutely no one available for the entire week. I think we should all go into the flood repair business because you get to take an entire week off for a one day holiday.

I suppose the week isn't over yet. So there is still a chance we could be finished - but I highly doubt it. I don't know how much we are paying for the drywall guy - but he said it would take him 3 days to patch up the mess. Yesterday morning he was here for about 2 hours - which considering the mess I thought he was pretty quick. This morning - only 30 minutes. I realize things need to dry - but good grief - I'm willing to blow dry the section he fixed to get it to dry faster and speed these steps up.

We also still have the matter of getting the carpet pads replaced in all of the rooms we had blowers on - and getting the carpet stretched and tacked down - and then cleaned. I'm thinking that's got to take at least 2 days.

If there can be anything good that comes out of this - DH was finally inspired to paint our bedroom. I had wanted to do it a long time ago - but we had way to much furniture in there to make it feasible. So last Wednesday we painted my room "Rejuvenated" which is just a fancy way of saying sage green.

Also - another bonus is yesterday my lovely new carpet was installed in my bedroom and closet. It is soo much softer - and a little darker. So now my bedroom furniture stands out a little more and it made my walls pop.

Yesterday, after the carpet had been installed and we had moved our furniture back into the bedroom. DH said - "I can't believe I'm about to say this - but I'm glad you flooded our house." It's true - I never thought I'd hear those words come out of his mouth. But I have to admit our room does look a lot better. What shall I flood next? hehe